


It's Whatever

by RascalBot



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 'Swawesome Santa 2015, M/M, Plotless Nonsense, just bros being dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 05:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5362529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RascalBot/pseuds/RascalBot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ransom and Holster take a little while to figure out what they want from each other, but they get there eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Whatever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theghostofjamespotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theghostofjamespotter/gifts).



> Wow, it's been a while since I've written anything hockey comic related. Have a 'swawesome holiday, theghostofjamespotter!

It started casually and drunkenly, in the attic, with a couple of girls from the volleyball team and probably enough tequila between them to give the whole Haus party a solid buzz; at least that’s what it felt like. The slurred and giggly suggestion of “you guys should kiss!” from the girl that Ransom had hooked up with that one time, Emily, right, had seemed like the best idea ever, especially when Ransom gave them a charming laugh and replied “All right, ladies, we will if you will.”

And so that was the first time they made out. The girls had loved it, and were, in fact, hard pressed to get them to _stop_ making out, because the guys got really into it. And after that night, they usually found some excuse or other to make out at Haus parties. But hey, making out is fun, whether you’re doing it with a hot girl or your best bro, and both of them turned out to be really good kissers. And if they didn’t hit it off with any of the girls at the party, Holster later drunkenly pointed out, shit, at least they both still got some action, right?

Which is actually exactly how it ended up going, a few parties down the line, when Ransom thought he had someone but the mood just wasn’t right, and Holster hadn’t found anyone at all. They were both drunk and climbing the attic stairs while comparing notes one minute, and the next they were kissing on Holster’s bed, with hardly any preamble. It wasn’t even awkward, even though it felt like it should have been awkward, it was just really hot and really nice.

And that’s pretty much when they stopped putting so much effort into finding girls to hook up with, and started retreating to the attic earlier and earlier, until they were doing so much more than just making out and when Holster finally had the presence of mind to ask “is this weird?” Ransom just shook his head.

“Nah, dude, it’s whatever,” he replied vaguely, and Holster got it.

\--

“I keep wanting to high five you.”

Ransom paused in his diligent efforts against Holster’s neck to give him an incredulous look. “What?”

“Like, high five or fist bump or something.”

“Bro, that’s probably the dumbest thing anyone’s ever said during foreplay.”

“No way, man. Not even close.” Holster shifted slightly under Ransom, pulling him just a little bit farther up the bed. “But we high five after we hook up at Haus parties all the time, dude. It’s like that, but during. And with each other. Like, yeah, buddy! Look at us! We’re making out! Congrats, bro!”

“Holtzy.” Ransom shook his head. “Do the words “no game whatsoever” mean anything to you?”

“Come on, bro. Are you telling me you’re not feeling it? At least a little?”

There was a pause, the muffled sounds of the Haus party slipping through their floorboards.

“Fuck,” Ransom said finally. “All right, but just once, because it’s stupid.”

Holster grinned and pulled him into a rough kiss. They leaned into each other, Holster’s fingers clenching around the fabric of Ransom’s shirt, as the shitty mattress creaked in protest. They finally broke apart, breathless, and Holster raised his eyebrows and held up his hand. Ransom gave it a long look of resentment, before raising his own.

“It’s still stupid,” he mumbled, but they high fived, and they both laughed before leaning in again.

\--

Late in the evening one Tuesday night, Holster was binge-watching old 30 Rock episodes before bed when rapid footsteps clattered up the stairs, and the attic door burst open, only to shut again hurriedly.

“Holtzy.”

“Yeah?”

“I know ghosts aren’t real.”

“But?”

“But if they were, would they take my towel?”

Holster looked up. Ransom was dripping water onto their floorboards, covering himself poorly with his discarded laundry. “Bro,” Holster said fondly, “ghosts _might_ —”

“They’re _not real._ ” Ransom grabbed Holster’s towel off the bedpost and stomped over to his dresser, drying himself vigorously.

“Then where’s your towel?”

“They’re not real!” Ransom yanked on a pair of sweats.

“Come watch 30 Rock with me.”

“What? Fuck off.”

“Come on, Rans. One episode.”

Ransom gave him a withering look, but he plopped himself onto the bed next to Holster. “I’m only watching because you’re gonna be playing it anyway and I’m too tired to kick your ass,” he declared firmly.

They watched more than one episode, and ended up stretched out on the bed together, Ransom’s head pillowed on Holster’s shoulder. He’d never gotten around to putting a shirt on. And they were both completely sober and they didn’t really want to fuck, but it was _nice_ , just lying there in bed together, Holster’s arm wrapped around Ransom’s shoulders as Ransom dozed against him to the sound of 30 Rock from Holster’s laptop speakers.

And it was totally natural for Holster to lean over and plant a kiss on the top of Ransom’s head, and Ransom shifted slightly and stretched up to meet Holster’s lips with his, and they kissed sleepily for a few long moments before drifting off together. And when they woke up like that the next morning, the first thing they did was kiss again, without hesitation and totally sober. And something shifted, for both of them, but it wasn’t scary, it was just nice.

\--

After a while, it was just easier, and better. They were pretty into each other, they had loads of fun flirting and giving each other shit in turns. They started to realize that while there were still plenty of girls willing to show them a good time, none of those times would be quite so good as the time they could show each other. It was a consequence of their closeness, right? No one got Ransom like Holster, and vice versa.

So why would they go out of their way to find someone else to hook up with when the person they wanted to be with was right there?

It didn’t stop them from flirting with all the girls at the Haus parties, but somehow, they just sort of stopped bringing those girls up to their rooms. It wasn’t a choice they made or even something done consciously, they just sort of started looking for each other, instead.

They didn’t talk about it, much, or even at all, but somewhere in there they became, well, exclusive. Exclusively whatever.

\--

“How long have we been doing this?”

Holster counted briskly on his fingers. “About five months?”

“Seriously, five months?” Ransom echoed, rolling over to face him. “It’s been five months since we started hooking up?”

“Yep.” Holster stretched out the length of the bed, feet dangling over the edge. “Happy anniversary, dude.”

“You’re such a nerd.” Ransom furrowed his brow. “Is it, like… a thing?”

“I don’t know. Do you want it to be?”

“I think so.” Ransom shook his head. “Nah, I mean, I know so. We just kind of did this whole thing ass backwards, didn’t we? I didn’t know I was so into you until after we started fucking.”

Holster tangled his fingers into Ransom’s. “Same. So, what, uh, dating?”

“Do we have to go on dates? ‘cause I’ve got finals.”

“Nah, I think dates are sort of vestigial to the dating process. Boyfriends?”

“Wow. Yeah.” Ransom squeezed Holster’s fingers. “Let’s go with that.”

Holster leaned in and kissed him gently for a long moment, then pulled away and raised his hand that wasn’t occupied by Ransom’s. “High five?”

“Oh my god.”


End file.
